<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>the origin is you (you're the origin of love) by crockettmarcel</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25671106">the origin is you (you're the origin of love)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/crockettmarcel/pseuds/crockettmarcel'>crockettmarcel</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>tiny love!au [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Chicago Med</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Parenthood, Unplanned Pregnancy, ava invented uhauling, bi!sarah, but it's also sort of canon compliant, kind of?? sarah and ava are both in med school, lesbian!ava, who knows babey!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 04:29:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,752</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25671106</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/crockettmarcel/pseuds/crockettmarcel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sarah had a plan for her life. She always had, and everything was on track. She had graduated high school top of her class, had got into Brown, and now she was in her first year of med school. It was everything she'd ever wanted.</p><p>Then her boyfriend left, and six weeks later she was face to face with two little pink lines, and suddenly nothing made sense anymore.</p><p>The one thing making it all bearable? Ava Bekker, the cute med student who drinks an unhealthy amount of black coffee and has the sweetest smile Sarah's ever seen.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ava Bekker/Sarah Reese</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>tiny love!au [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1791484</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>if you've read A Little Soul, this is very loosely based on that (but Joey isn't the father because I,, do not vibe with that anymore)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sarah should have cancelled this appointment, should have stayed home, curled up in bed or on the couch. Her therapist’s office, with its pale yellow walls and hardwood floors, felt wrong today. It was too cheerful, and the weird, abstract painting hanging directly behind her therapist’s head was making her already unbearable nausea even worse.</p><p>At least if she’d just been able to grit her teeth and sit through it, the hour would have gone by at a reasonable pace. She could have gone on about how she still missed her ex, but she was slowly moving on, or how she’d actually managed to go to work and most of her classes this week, instead of just moping around her apartment. </p><p>And she did, for a bit, until the two of them settled into an almost-comfortable silence, and she felt like she had to say something. It was the first thing that came to mind, and she didn’t realise she’d actually said it until she caught Janeen looking at her, mouth open slightly, because the last thing she’d expected to hear from Sarah was a pregnancy announcement.</p><p>     “Are you sure?”</p><p>     “I took five tests.”</p><p>Janeen fixed Sarah with one of her<em> looks, </em> the type she reserved for her more questionable behaviours, then scribbled something down on the pad in front of her. Sarah was generally an anxious person - some might say highly strung - and always meticulous in everything she did, but even so, five tests seemed excessive. </p><p>     “Listen, I- I don’t know why I told you.” There was a stain on the rug in front of her, one that hadn’t been there last time she was here, and she scuffed at it with the toe of her converse, trying to turn the mess in her brain into semi-coherent sentences. “It’s not- well it <em> is </em> a big deal, but like, not big enough for therapy, y’know?” She forced a laugh, trying to lighten the mood, but Janeen was still frowning.</p><p>     “Have you told the father yet?”</p><p>Sarah bit her lip, picking at the rip in her jeans and avoiding eye contact with the woman in front of her. She’d been meaning to, but she could never seem to find the words, not when he was moving almost a thousand miles away in a couple of months, and they hadn’t spoken at all in the weeks since they’d broken up.</p><p>Eventually, she shook her head. “I’m not sure if I want him to know.” She paused, gathering her thoughts. “I don’t know. I might tell him, but it’s not like it would make any difference. Louisiana and his residency are what matters to him, not me, and probably not our child either.”</p><p>They’d been together for five months, and Sarah had been sure it was the best five months of her life. She’d felt loved for the first time, and although she wouldn’t have gone as far as to say she thought they’d get married or anything like that, she’d expected them to have more time together.</p><p>And then he’d got his residency match - surgery at Ochsner Baptist, back home in New Orleans - and everything fell apart. He’d made his choices while they were together, all for hospitals in Louisiana, but had never told Sarah, leaving her to naively think he was staying in Chicago and that nothing would change after Match Day. She blamed herself for not asking sooner, but he hadn’t so much as hinted that he was planning on leaving the Windy City, so she just assumed it would all be okay.</p><p>But it wasn’t. She wasn’t ready for a long-distance relationship, especially knowing he’d kept something this big from her for months, so she ended it, and that was that. Things were different between them now, and she didn’t feel like she could trust him anymore. The last thing she wanted to do was invite him back into her life, especially not for a baby she didn’t even know if he’d want.</p><p>     “Are you go-”</p><p>     “Can we talk about something else? I just - this isn’t something I want to think about right now.”</p><p>Janeen sighed, but motioned for Sarah to keep talking. Forcing her to open up never worked - she’d learnt that the hard way - and talking about anything was better than sitting in silence.</p><p>     “I’ve met someone.”</p><p>     “Oh?” Last time Sarah was here, she’d still been heartbroken over her breakup, and as much as she wanted to, Janeen hadn’t even considered the possibility that Sarah would have moved on in the two weeks between their sessions. “What’s he like?”</p><p>     “Uh-” she faltered, mouth drying out as she tried to think of a way to explain. It probably wouldn’t be that big of a deal, but that hadn’t stopped her from conveniently forgetting to mention this in either of their previous two sessions.</p><p>She’d wanted to wait until she knew it was more than just a one-off, and until she could be sure that Janeen would be okay with it.</p><p>     <em>“</em><em>She’s </em> great.”</p><p>If Janeen was honest, that was probably the least surprising thing Sarah had told her. She knew Sarah would tell her in her own time - and she was glad she’d felt comfortable enough to do so - but it’s not like it wasn’t obvious from everything about her.</p><p>Once she’d realised she wasn’t about to be the victim of a hate crime, Sarah continued, her face breaking into a smile. </p><p>     “Okay, so her name’s Ava and she’s been a regular at work for a while, then I think like three weeks ago we started talking properly, beyond just me taking her order. Anyway, turns out<em> she’s </em>a med student as well - third year - and we hit it off really well! She’s so nice, and she’s South African, so she has the cutest accent, and I think I might actually really like her?”</p><p>     “That’s good. I’m proud of you.” Janeen smiled at Sarah, and almost instantly she relaxed back into the couch. The two were silent for a moment while Janeen wrote something down, then she set her pad aside, looking expectantly at Sarah.</p><p>     “So, have you two done anything fun yet? I know med school isn’t the easiest time for dating, but you said you’ve been seeing each other for a couple of weeks, and there’s loads of nice places to go in Chicago.”</p><p>At this, Sarah turned her gaze to the floor, lips pursed as she tried to think of the best way to describe her relationship.</p><p>     “We haven’t<em> technically </em>been on any dates yet, but we’ve uh… we’ve spent a lot of time at her place.”</p><p>As subtle as she thought she was being, it didn’t take a genius to work out what she meant, and the look Janeen gave her told her exactly that. </p><p>     “So, you’re sleeping together?” It came across as more of a statement than a question, and Sarah simply nodded. She wasn’t sure if the time they spent together while she was at work counted as anything - it probably didn’t - which meant their entire relationship, if it could even be called that, was just them hooking up.</p><p>     “Is there any possibility that you could be using sex to cope with the breakup?”</p><p>Sarah almost laughed at this suggestion. She had a whole arsenal of coping mechanisms, some less healthy than others (these ones were always easier to fall back on), but sex had never been one of them. Maybe it was from years of being dragged to church as a kid by a mom who thought it would somehow make up for the fact that she was never around, but she’d never really seen it as a solution to anything.</p><p>     “I’m not- I’m coping fine. I’m going to class again and I’m eating when I can, remember? But I just… I don’t know. I guess I’m trying to make the most of the time I have left before no one wants to be with me anymore.”</p><p>Her comment was met with a frown, and what felt like an eternity of Janeen scribbling in her notepad before she spoke again.</p><p>     “You’re keeping the baby then.”</p><p>     “That’s not what- I never said that.”</p><p>     “Why else would people suddenly not want to be with you?”</p><p>Sarah glanced up at the clock by the door - ten long minutes until the end of the session - and a wave of nausea washed over her. She couldn’t tell if it was the baby or simply anxiety - this had happened a lot while she was in college - but either way, she had to leave now. She was just about able to mumble a quick apology before almost sprinting out the room, relying on muscle memory to get her to the bathroom down the corridor, barely making it in time before her lunch made a reappearance.</p><p>She flushed the toilet when she was done, but didn’t move from her position sitting against the wall of the cubicle. Her appointment was supposed to be ending in a couple of minutes, and she knew she’d have to go back to get her bag and jacket eventually, but for now she was content in the quiet bathroom, the tiled floor cool on her legs, even through her jeans. </p><p>With a shaky breath, she placed a hand gingerly on her stomach, willing herself to feel anything other than almost complete apathy for this tiny being that was half her, and half someone she couldn’t even bring herself to think about. </p><p>But there was nothing. Part of her<em> wanted </em>to love it, to cherish every moment of this pregnancy, but she just didn’t know how. </p><p>This had never been part of the plan.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>She kicked her shoes off before she was even halfway through her front door, not bothering to untie the laces. All Sarah wanted to do was sit down and try and forget that that appointment had just happened, to pretend that she hadn’t just told Janeen all the things she didn’t want her to know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was nothing she could do - Sarah wasn’t a risk to herself or others - but she knew about the baby now, and even thinking about it made Sarah’s skin crawl. She hadn’t meant to tell anyone, especially not her therapist, but now that she had she couldn’t pretend it wasn’t happening anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a frustrated sigh, she made her way through to the kitchen, stopping at the freezer to grab a box of mozzarella sticks. She was tired, hormonal, and hungry, and it had been almost four hours since she’d had lunch. Most of it had ended up in a toilet in her therapist’s office, so it wasn’t really a surprise that she was starting to feel like shit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>While she waited for the oven to heat up, she got started on a cup of ginger tea, trying to settle her stomach. This was the worst symptom, she had decided. It wasn’t just the being sick that she hated - that on its own she could cope with. It was the fact that it was paired with a constant, almost hungover feeling, and even the smell of most of the food she used to love now turned her stomach. She hated it all with a passion, and she couldn’t wait for it to be over, preferably sooner rather than later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mug in hand, she headed for her bedroom, desperate to change into something more comfortable. She had a headache from having her hair up all day, and she couldn’t wait to get out of her jeans, which were slightly too tight and just starting to dig in in all the worst places.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was an old t-shirt thrown over the back of the chair in her room, a band shirt that she'd had since she was a teenager. She only really wore it as pyjamas now, but she wasn't planning on going out again today so she threw it on, relaxing into the soft cotton and the feeling of safety it provided.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The jeans came off straight after, and Sarah didn't feel the need to replace them with anything. Her shirt was big enough that it came down to her mid-thighs, and she was home alone anyway, so it's not like it mattered. It felt nicer like this, not having anything clinging to her legs, so once her hair was down, bobby pins lined up neatly on her nightstand, she went back out to the kitchen to put the mozzarella sticks in the oven.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The few sips of tea she'd managed while she was changing had already done wonders for her stomach, and it suddenly hit her how hungry she actually was. She set the timer for ten minutes, then leant back against the counter, scrolling through her phone. All her friends - both from college, and the few she'd made here in Chicago - seemed to be out doing things and having fun, and after a couple of minutes of looking through endless posts showing her friends having normal lives, she had to put the phone down. It was too much, seeing what she was missing out on, what she could be doing now, and just made her angrier at her situation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She bent down to check her food, and as she stood up again, the calendar on the wall caught her eye. She'd used it obsessively when she first moved in, but now she was lucky if she remembered to put anything on there at all. There were a couple of things written down - each of her sessions with Janeen, the time written neatly underneath, and the name of a cafe next to a friend she hadn't spoken to in weeks, for this weekend. She'd already cancelled, so she wasn't sure why she hadn't crossed it out yet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But there was one thing that was out of place. The name of her doctor, written in thick, black Sharpie in the box three days away - her first prenatal appointment. The sight of it made her want to curl up in bed and cry for a week, and it took everything in her not to cancel this as well. The only thing stopping her was the anxiety that came with calling up; she’d struggled enough booking it in the first place that the thought of calling again almost made her break out in a cold sweat.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before she could be sucked deeper into her thoughts, the timer went off, forcing her to take a moment away from the mess in her head. She put the mozzarella sticks on a plate and carried them into the living room, then put the TV on and curled up on the couch.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>I wish Ava was here.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The thought came out of nowhere, and it was harder to shake off than Sarah liked. Ava was sweet, and Sarah was pretty sure she liked her beyond just their hookups, but she had no idea if she’d feel the same once she found out about the baby. All she knew was that she couldn’t handle a rejection like that, not now, and there was no reason for ruining what they had over something that might not even be a problem in a few weeks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, there was no point in inviting Ava round. She was going to do what she’d told Janeen - make the most of the time they had together, work out what she was doing about her </span>
  <em>
    <span>situation,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and go from there.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>The next three days were a blur of working and studying, so much so that Sarah hardly had any time to be anxious about her upcoming appointment. Even when she had time to herself, she did everything she could to not think about it, to the point that when she was sitting in the hard plastic chair in the waiting room, she had the sudden realisation that she wasn’t prepared for this appointment at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She had a million questions, and no idea how to articulate them all without sounding stupid, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh god I shouldn’t be here, I should have stayed at home, they’re going to think I’ll be a shit mom, but I don’t even know if I </span>
  </em>
  <span>want</span>
  <em>
    <span> to be a mom, and-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Sarah? Sarah Reese?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A nurse stood at the front of the waiting room, clipboard in hand as she scanned the room. It was unusually quiet, and her eyes quickly settled on Sarah, offering her a soft smile as she hesitantly got out of her seat and made her way over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She followed the nurse down a corridor, to a room she wasn’t entirely unfamiliar with, trying the whole time to resist the urge to just bolt. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It would be easier to just go,</span>
  </em>
  <span> she thought to herself, but she knew she’d have to do this at some point. Best to just get it over with now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The nurse handed her a gown to change into, and told her that she had a couple of tests to run once she was done, while they waited for the doctor. It was basic stuff - blood pressure, heart rate, taking blood and urine samples - and she knew that in a couple of years she’d be learning to do all that and more, but it still freaked her out more than she thought it would.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After what felt like an eternity of being prodded and poked, Dr Ramsey - Kate, as she insisted on being called - turned up, all warm smiles and reassuring words. She confirmed that Sarah </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> pregnant, as if the five tests and constant nausea weren’t enough proof, then ran through an extensive list of questions, most of which Sarah didn’t have the answers for.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “I can give you an ultrasound now, if you want.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The questions had stopped a while back, and Kate had since moved on to the different options available if keeping the baby wasn’t on the table. Sarah was still exhausted, and despite her best efforts had almost completely zoned out; it was only hearing Kate say </span>
  <em>
    <span>ultrasound</span>
  </em>
  <span> that brought her back to the conversation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Sure.” She forced a smile, hoping it would hide how nervous she actually was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It must have done the job, because Kate got everything set up without saying anything, aside from a warning that she might feel some slight discomfort. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was too focused on the screen in front of her to say much else, presumably trying to get a good view of the baby - </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sarah’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> baby. She didn’t even know if it </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>a baby at this point, or if she wanted to think of it as one, or-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “You can take a look now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kate had angled the screen towards Sarah, with the little being inside of her on full display in black and white. It was… a lot, seeing it right there in front of her, and she struggled to process the mess of emotions she was feeling. She’d never planned on being a mom, wasn’t sure if she even wanted it, but watching the tiny grey blob move on the screen next to her head, hearing its heartbeat for the first time, something clicked. She still wasn’t entirely certain, but the part of her telling her that she could be a good mom was louder now, and she felt more of an urge to listen to it than she had when she’d woken up that morning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was some more basic information Kate ran through with her, and as she left with a bunch of leaflets and a printout of the sonogram tucked safely away in her purse, she went over it all again in her head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was eight weeks pregnant with a perfectly healthy baby, who, according to one of the leaflets, was currently about the same size as a raspberry. Her due date was less than a week before Christmas, which she wasn’t entirely happy about, but she’d deal with it later. For now, all she wanted to do was go home and sleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she got to her car, she took a moment to herself before starting the engine, using the opportunity to glance again at the sonogram. None of it had seemed real until now, and suddenly she was crying out of something between joy and fear. She was having a baby. </span>
  <em>
    <span>She was having a baby. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Even those words seemed foreign, and the idea of herself as somebody’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>mom</span>
  </em>
  <span> felt strange, like she was thinking about someone else. It didn’t feel like her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time she pulled up outside her apartment block, she’d decided she had to tell her ex. Not now, of course - she was tired, and she was planning on just watching TV for a few hours and then going to bed before ten - but in the morning. The baby wasn’t just some abstract concept anymore, or a possibility, something that might happen. She wanted it, and he at least deserved to know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It didn’t take her long to get bored of flicking through endless channels, searching for something even slightly entertaining to distract herself with, so eventually, she just gave up. She was in bed by nine, and slept for almost ten hours, only waking when her body decided to send her rushing to the bathroom, hand clasped over her mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once she’d got herself cleaned up, she spent the next few hours pottering around her apartment, tidying it up a bit, and counting down the minutes until she knew her ex would be awake. He hardly slept, at least not when they were together, so as soon as her phone hit nine am she was dialling his number, trying desperately not to talk herself out of it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It rang once, twice, three times before he picked up, and as soon as she heard the familiar sound of his breathing, she froze. She couldn’t do this, couldn’t invite him back into her life, couldn’t-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>     “Sarah?”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i'm going to be honest,, i decided to rewrite the first couple of paragraphs like an hour before posting this and also i didn't proofread it afterwards so uh,, hope it was okay ! :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>He was drunk. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Of course</span>
  </em>
  <span> he was drunk. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sarah should have seen it coming, but she was so caught up in the idea that maybe, </span>
  <em>
    <span>maybe,</span>
  </em>
  <span> they could have a life together, just the three of them, that for a few hours she’d forgotten what he was really like. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But then he’d picked up the phone, and she knew exactly what she’d be seeing if she was there with him, could almost smell the alcohol on him. It would be bourbon, the reason she was in this mess in the first place, or tequila if he was having a particularly rough day. He always started off by pouring it into a glass, playing make-believe that he’d be able to control himself this time, that within the hour he wouldn’t be drinking straight from the bottle, that same glass abandoned on the table in front of him. It was a pattern, and one he didn’t sound like he was trying to break.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So she stayed silent the whole time, content to let him slur out meaningless apologies and excuses, as if they could fix anything. He was drunk at nine am on a Tuesday morning, and no amount of crying down the phone could change the way she felt about that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hung up with one final </span>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m sorry, Sarah”,</span>
  </em>
  <span> enough to leave her feeling sick to her stomach, and she had to resist the urge to hurl her phone at the wall. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Instead, she placed it carefully on the coffee table in front of her, then went to get her bag from the hallway. The sonogram was still inside, tucked safely between the pages of her copy of The Secret Life of Bees where it had been all night, and she almost felt bad about having left it there. As she took it out, she ran her fingers over its smooth surface, already feeling herself start to well up. It wouldn’t be so bad, just the two of them, not when she was more sure than ever that this was what she wanted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She made her way through to the kitchen, sonogram in hand, and stopped in front of the fridge. Right at eye level was a strip of small, rectangular photos taken inside a booth at Navy Pier months ago, when her relationship was new and it felt like the world revolved around them. They were cute pictures, the two of them looking so happy, and she couldn’t help how bittersweet it felt taking them down. But she had to do this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a spare magnet, different from the one she’d used for the photo strip, nicer, and she used it to hold the sonogram in place. It filled the space better, and seeing her baby there was preferable to the photos of her ex. This was her life now, and she didn’t need any constant reminders of him in it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a small step, but it was better staying where she was. </span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>She started spending more and more time with Ava after that, always at her place, in the safety of her bed. It was the same every time, the same routine, and knowing what to expect when she was there was comforting to Sarah. And of course, it helped that Ava was a good host; she wouldn’t dream of letting Sarah sit down without at least offering her a drink and something to eat. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You’re going to need the energy,</span>
  </em>
  <span> she’d once said, and Sarah’s face had quickly turned a less-than-subtle shade of pink, much to Ava’s amusement. Sarah didn’t mind though, not when the sound of Ava’s giggles was one of the most beautiful things she’d ever heard. She was almost sure she loved her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A little over a week after her appointment, she found herself in Ava’s bed yet again, the two of them lying skin to skin under the covers. It was comfortably warm, and Sarah had never felt more relaxed than in that moment, safe in Ava’s arms and taking in the subtle scent of her rose perfume.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The vibrator had been set aside on the nightstand to be cleaned later, and although they both knew this sweaty, sticky feeling wouldn’t go away without a shower, neither of them were willing to get up and  ruin the moment. For now, they were happy just to be with each other, Sarah lightly tracing lines between the freckles that dotted Ava’s ivory skin. This was what peace felt like, Sarah had decided, and she’d give up everything else in her life if it meant she could stay like this forever.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Everything was perfect in that moment, and Sarah couldn’t help letting out a soft whine when Ava pulled away from the embrace, propping herself up with one elbow. It was cold without Ava pressed against her, and she had to resist the urge to move back closer to her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “You know, I was thinking,” Ava gently cupped Sarah’s cheek and stroked it with her thumb. “We don’t spend much time outside of this room.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “We don’t,” Sarah agreed, turning her head slightly to place a kiss on Ava’s palm.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ava hesitated for a second before continuing. “So I was just wondering if you’d maybe... let me take you out to dinner?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sarah couldn’t help the way her face fell at that suggestion, and almost immediately, Ava started backtracking and apologising for even bringing it up. She should have known this was just casual, that it was nothing more than a fling, that-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “Hey.” This time it was Sarah’s turn to hold Ava’s cheek. “I would </span>
  <em>
    <span>love</span>
  </em>
  <span> to go out with you, I just-” She paused, trying to work out how to word it without giving anything away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     “I don’t cope well in restaurants. They make me anxious and sick, and it wouldn’t be fun for either of us.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn’t far from the truth, and it was a good enough explanation to bring the excitement back to Ava’s eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Millennium Park was her next suggestion - there were loads of things to do, it was May so the weather was perfect for it, and they could even bring a picnic if going somewhere for lunch was too much for Sarah. It sounded like she’d already had this planned as a back-up idea, with a slight adjustment made so Sarah could eat, and the amount of thought and care that had gone into it was enough to bring a smile to her face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She’d wanted this almost since she’d met Ava, and as they discussed their plans and played with each other’s hair, she was glad one of them had been brave enough to make the first move.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>sorry this took so long oops</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>